Hurting like a sorry son-of-a-bitch, I slowly slithered from my bedroom in search of caffeine consciousness. "Willy, you wonky old boy," I whispered to my dangling pecker-of-newest-orange-and-green, "Theirs were no ordinary beans of cocoa." Every FUCKIN' year! What's it with me and Oktoberfest hookups? "Minty," the Loompas had replied after my courage-by-barley, Oompa essence
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